Read Online Lord Dragon's Conquest by Sharon Ashwood - Free Book Online
Authors: Sharon Ashwood
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was transfixed.
Rand drew a knife from a sheath strapped to his thigh. It was a wicked, two-edged weapon with a footlong blade. This wasn’t going to be a simple wrestling match. Keltie’s stomach lurched.
Larkan had told her these trials only came when the Flameborn battled for the position of consort. Sometimes there would be one fight, sometimes many, but the queen chose the combatants from the bravest of her guards. This time she had named only two guards, so there would be just one trial—and it would be a fight to the death.
If Larkan lost, he would die. If Larkan won, he would be the queen’s lover. Either way, Keltie would be robbed of him forever.
Chapter Seven
Larkan’s heart had turned to lead. “I do not want to kill you, my friend.”
Rand didn’t answer. Words meant nothing when the madness of the trials had seized one of the Flameborn—and Rand, warrior-priest and friend, was quite clearly gone. Larkan could see nothing but the fury of desire in his amber eyes and in the twist of his mouth. He had noticed when Rand’s scent changed to take on the musky scent of a beast. His friend would fight for the right to mate, both as a man and as a dragon, until Larkan was but shreds of flesh upon the stone.
Larkan would fight back, if only to save his own life. And without question his beast was aware of the queen. She was not just a young female ready to mate, but the alpha female among their kind. Still, for the mating to work both beast and man had to want it, and Larkan would cheerfully bed a rock troll before sleeping with Nadiana.
And yet he could not let Rand win. Defeat would be the end of everything. He would never arrow through the sky, wings beating the wind. He would never walk among the humans or learn of the wonders of the outside world. And he would never be free to escape and find Keltie. He could feel the softness of her skin, and see the warmth in her dark, dark eyes. He had never known such tenderness. Losing her was unthinkable.
Agony ripped through Larkan, and he roared his protest. As if that were the signal Rand had been waiting for, he launched himself at Larkan, knife poised and fingers curled into claws. But Larkan was fast, turning into Rand’s blow and hurling him to the ground. He didn’t want to kill his friend—he’d beg for Rand’s life if he had to—but he needed to defeat him beyond all doubt. Anything less was a prison sentence.
Quick as thought, Rand rolled back to his feet. He’d dropped the knife, but it had spun out of reach. Rand barely seemed to notice. Eyes were crazy with battle-lust, he reached for Larkan’s throat. This time Larkan wasn’t fast enough to twist away, and the two men fell to the ground in a mighty struggle. Larkan drove the heel of his hand into Rand’s nose and felt cartilage break. Rand bellowed with pain as blood spurted down his face.
And then Rand changed. Talons sprouted from his fingers as Larkan dodged a slashing blow. Rand shimmered in the circle of torchlight, almost fading from view as he transformed in the space of a heartbeat. It happened too fast to see, but suddenly he was there, the bronze-and-ivory beast that had chased Larkan on the mountainside. The remnants of his clothes, torn during the rapid change, tumbled to his taloned feet. His long, horned head reared up, jaws opening to reveal scythelike fangs. Rand’s amber eyes glowered down at Larkan, alight with fury.
By the Flame, he hated mating rituals.
“Larkan!”
Larkan turned at the cry, his skin already crawling with horror. Somehow he knew what was coming, and a single glance confirmed his worst fears. Keltie stood at the edge of the battlefield, an ax in one hand and awestruck terror on her face. Once again, she had come to his aid.
Love and shock stole his breath. She really shouldn’t have done that.
Now she was one small human in a pit of beasts.
* * *
Keltie had seen a dragon before, which was bizarre enough, but it wasn’t the same as seeing
Rand drew a knife from a sheath strapped to his thigh. It was a wicked, two-edged weapon with a footlong blade. This wasn’t going to be a simple wrestling match. Keltie’s stomach lurched.
Larkan had told her these trials only came when the Flameborn battled for the position of consort. Sometimes there would be one fight, sometimes many, but the queen chose the combatants from the bravest of her guards. This time she had named only two guards, so there would be just one trial—and it would be a fight to the death.
If Larkan lost, he would die. If Larkan won, he would be the queen’s lover. Either way, Keltie would be robbed of him forever.
Chapter Seven
Larkan’s heart had turned to lead. “I do not want to kill you, my friend.”
Rand didn’t answer. Words meant nothing when the madness of the trials had seized one of the Flameborn—and Rand, warrior-priest and friend, was quite clearly gone. Larkan could see nothing but the fury of desire in his amber eyes and in the twist of his mouth. He had noticed when Rand’s scent changed to take on the musky scent of a beast. His friend would fight for the right to mate, both as a man and as a dragon, until Larkan was but shreds of flesh upon the stone.
Larkan would fight back, if only to save his own life. And without question his beast was aware of the queen. She was not just a young female ready to mate, but the alpha female among their kind. Still, for the mating to work both beast and man had to want it, and Larkan would cheerfully bed a rock troll before sleeping with Nadiana.
And yet he could not let Rand win. Defeat would be the end of everything. He would never arrow through the sky, wings beating the wind. He would never walk among the humans or learn of the wonders of the outside world. And he would never be free to escape and find Keltie. He could feel the softness of her skin, and see the warmth in her dark, dark eyes. He had never known such tenderness. Losing her was unthinkable.
Agony ripped through Larkan, and he roared his protest. As if that were the signal Rand had been waiting for, he launched himself at Larkan, knife poised and fingers curled into claws. But Larkan was fast, turning into Rand’s blow and hurling him to the ground. He didn’t want to kill his friend—he’d beg for Rand’s life if he had to—but he needed to defeat him beyond all doubt. Anything less was a prison sentence.
Quick as thought, Rand rolled back to his feet. He’d dropped the knife, but it had spun out of reach. Rand barely seemed to notice. Eyes were crazy with battle-lust, he reached for Larkan’s throat. This time Larkan wasn’t fast enough to twist away, and the two men fell to the ground in a mighty struggle. Larkan drove the heel of his hand into Rand’s nose and felt cartilage break. Rand bellowed with pain as blood spurted down his face.
And then Rand changed. Talons sprouted from his fingers as Larkan dodged a slashing blow. Rand shimmered in the circle of torchlight, almost fading from view as he transformed in the space of a heartbeat. It happened too fast to see, but suddenly he was there, the bronze-and-ivory beast that had chased Larkan on the mountainside. The remnants of his clothes, torn during the rapid change, tumbled to his taloned feet. His long, horned head reared up, jaws opening to reveal scythelike fangs. Rand’s amber eyes glowered down at Larkan, alight with fury.
By the Flame, he hated mating rituals.
“Larkan!”
Larkan turned at the cry, his skin already crawling with horror. Somehow he knew what was coming, and a single glance confirmed his worst fears. Keltie stood at the edge of the battlefield, an ax in one hand and awestruck terror on her face. Once again, she had come to his aid.
Love and shock stole his breath. She really shouldn’t have done that.
Now she was one small human in a pit of beasts.
* * *
Keltie had seen a dragon before, which was bizarre enough, but it wasn’t the same as seeing
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